Beyond the Withered Ferns
by Sulfur Dusk
Summary: AU - Seireitei is a city split between two warring districts: Eastwield, and Westcross. When Rukia of Westcross loses her best friend to the Wilds, she is determined to find him. She never expected to cross paths with the Captain Inquisitor of Eastwield. And now, she was his prisoner, her fate no longer in her own hands. HitsuRuki.
1. Lions and Dragons

**Beyond the Withered Ferns**

* * *

**I**

Lions and Dragons

* * *

_Dark secrets and endless whispers danced through the Wilds like a potent, misted poison. For at least one hundred years, the tall crippled trees boasted the same gnarled roots, twisting and turning as if demons were churning their movements when no one watched. A layer of fog snaked through the Wilds; a cordless rope of mystery and fright that chilled intruders to the bone. Animals did not flourish in the Wilds—instead, detached souls were said to wander the dark territories during both dusk and dawn, awaiting their next victims._

_The Wilds was the cut of dangerous forestry that sliced Seireitei into three varied segments. The richer, broader territories formed the compound known as Eastwield, boasting the symbol of the Obsidian Lion: a vicious, yet majestic animal with a thick empowering mane and colored as black as night. _

_The much smaller, more compact territories were eventually named Westcross, presenting the symbol of the Iron Dragon. Slender as a serpent and rimmed with razor-sharp scales in old folk tales, it was colored deep metallic silver, brimming with a message of somberness and silent strength. _

_The largest, richest and most bountiful landscaping area was labeled the Diamond Quarter, the Seireitei Capitol and home to the Palace of Kings. _

_The two factions—the Eastwield Lions and the Westcross Dragons—had turned to war against one another in hopes of claiming more and more territory and chopping down the fortress that was the Wilds. Residents dreamt hopelessly of someday traveling to the Diamond Quarter, hoping to get an audience with the Elector of Seireitei, wishing, wondering if they could ever escape their current lifestyles. _

_No one would expect that one young girl would turn the entire broken foundation of Seireitei upside down._

* * *

Blackened ash kicked off Rukia's heels as she searched for the closest hiding place. Hopefully Kaien would look away from the older buildings in Westcross—no one would suspect that she was hiding in one of the old rundown delicatessens.

She scampered across the soiled wooden floors, glancing at the cracks in the walls and the holes in the ceiling. Rays of sunlight sprayed the area around her bare toes; she wondered if she could reach up and cup the sky in her hands if she tried.

Rukia glanced around, wondering if this was a good hiding place after all. Within seconds Kaien would be finished counting and he would be able to find her before she could even have a chance to hide.

"Found you Ruk'!"

The girl squeaked and whipped around, glaring and pouting at her best—and only—friend. He stood there with his hands proudly positioned on his hips, tufts of black hair rimmed on his head, and his bright childish eyes were alive with excitement and happiness at finding the girl.

"No fair! I didn't even get to find a good place! That was stupid." Rukia crossed her arms, huffing. "Rematch."

"You can't call it a rematch, Rukia. That doesn't make any sense," Kaien countered, shrugging. "I won. Deal with it." At ten years old he easily towered over her, and the girl was incredibly embarrassed when he walked over to her and ruffled her filthy hair with his fingers. He smirked and smacked her in the back of the head, making her growl. "I won fair and square. We can go play a different game though."

"Hmph," Rukia muttered. "Fine…" She sighed and then smiled. She could never really stay angry with Kaien; there was something about him that made her feel happy and protected. He was the only friend she had; orphans stuck together in the poorest street in Westcross. Rukongai was not safe, though the two of them had learned to survive through the darkest of circumstances.

"_Atten-_tion!"

Rukia blinked owlishly at the loud intruding voice, though once those words registered with Kaien he suddenly looked very excited. He smiled and dashed to the door, creaking open the old wooden entrance to see the one group of people that he admired in Westcross.

The Iron Dragon Squadron.

"Rukia! Come look!" He beckoned excitedly. She scurried over to him, peeking under his nose and staring at the tall, muscular men donned in the nicest looking pieces of clothing she had ever seen.

The Iron Dragons were symbols of Westcross, armed to the brim with the finest steel blades, muskets and dressed in deep blues, blacks, and lined with silks of silver. They looked well groomed, positioned for battle and definitely prepared for what was to come.

The Iron Dragons were trained extensively in the slightly wealthier portions of Westcross, solely for the purpose of entering the dangerous stretch of forestry that never seemed to end, known only as the Wilds. Rukia had heard of awful stories of children accidentally getting lost amongst the withering ferns and oaks, never to return to their one true home.

"Someday, I'll be one of them," Kaien whispered. Determination flashed in his youthful eyes.

Rukia frowned. "You…" She paused and tried to smile. "You would be great." She could mentally picture Kaien grinning in gratitude, though in her heart she wished he wouldn't be idiotic and hope to do something so foolish. Kaien was so ambitious and wanted to someday accomplish the greatest of dreams. But become an Iron Dragon? That was practically suicide in Westcross… and in Seireitei as well.

"Could you imagine Ruk'? Me, the amazing Kaien, holding a fine steel blade, slicing down monsters in the Wilds, protecting the people of Westcross?" He bounced away from the door and pretended to cut through the air with an imaginary sword. "Make sure the damsels in distress are safe." He stared at her. "I would protect you too!"

Rukia blinked in surprise and glared. "I can take care of myself!" She huffed stubbornly.

Kaien smiled, tilting his head to the side. "I know, I know. You're tough." He shrugged. "But I'm bigger and stronger, and only men can become Iron Dragons and serve Westcross." He pretended to strike her, his hand resting right beneath her chin. "See? You would be dead right now if I was holding a real sword." He smirked haughtily and rocked on his heels. "Someday, I'll be one of them, and it'll be like a dream come true."

Rukia sighed, rolling her eyes. "Well, if you're gonna do that, you still have to be my friend. If you forget about me I'll beat you up."

"Well obviously," Kaien replied, returning the eye roll. He raised an eyebrow and strode over to her, suddenly grabbing her and putting her in a headlock. "Little Ruk', there's no way we wouldn't stay friends. Only friends do random crap like this."

"_Let. Go_!" Rukia grumbled.

"But, in all seriousness," Kaien said as he released her. He laughed when he saw that her face was beet-red and her hair in a tousled mess. "I'll always protect you."

She blinked and had no idea how to respond to that. In the dark world they lived in, they were forced to mature much earlier than expected, and were very aware of the Wilds, the territorial compound of Eastwield that constantly sought for their blood, and the supposedly amazing Diamond Quarter, where only the rich and privileged were allowed to reside and be protected.

To hear Kaien say those words made her stomach flip and her heart skip a beat or two. She shook her head and blinked. "Um… thank you." She couldn't prevent the blush rising from her neck to her cheeks, and within seconds she was mortified and embarrassed.

Kaien only snickered and patted her head. "No problem, little Ruk'."

.

.

.

_**Ten Years Later**_

.

.

.

"Matsumoto."

"Yes, my wonderful and oh-so-forgiving employer?"

"I thought I told you to have this work completed and distributed to the district townspeople as soon as possible. As in, by _today_."

The woman in question, Matsumoto Rangiku, found it difficult to really defend herself in his situation. She glanced over her boss in curiosity and chuckled in hopes of distracting him. If he were any other man in Eastwield, she would have him begging for her body to grind against theirs for pure satisfaction and forgiveness.

Though the highly respected and influential Toushiro Hitsugaya was not interested in those matters. Before him were several posters declaring warnings of trespassing into forbidden territory and exploring past the immense cinderblock wall that protected his people. If Matsumoto had not slacked off, many citizens of Eastwield would be clutching these printed pieces of paper in their wealthy hands.

The Wilds were so dangerous that only his elite force, the Imperial Inquisition, could drive out the growing threats within. Spreading the word that suspicions were growing around the border were beginning to affect his daily work in the community, and to come back from patrolling the perimeter with his faithful Inquisitors to find his lazy assistant lounging on the furniture, talking in her sleep about dancing dogs and canaries.

Hitsugaya walked over to his desk and sat down, trying to ignore the growing headache throbbing in his temple. The insufferable woman continued staring at him in hopes of earning his forgiveness, though he chose to ignore her. The male members of his Inquisition thought that she was exceptionally beautiful, with her outlandish curves, ashen blue eyes and long locks of waving strawberry blonde hair.

But to him she was nothing more than a nuisance.

"Get out before I lose my temper," he growled out, struggling to keep his mental schedule in check. There were still so many things he needed to do, far too many citizens he needed to check up on, and by dusk he would need to take some select Inquisitors and scout the Wilds.

Matsumoto allowed her lips to curl into a pout, though at this moment she was not going to complain. She carried herself out of his quarters, lightly closing the polished rosewood doors behind her. She sighed heavily to herself, feeling guilty for several seconds before the thoughts diminishing entirely. She wondered if any of the bars were opened at this hour—perhaps they were.

Flipping through his reports, Hitsugaya frowned as he came across a declaration written in loud bold letters.

**WESTCROSS SCOUTSMEN SPOTTED IN THE WILDS, CLOSE TO TERRITORY BORDERS. REQUEST FOR IMMEDIATE ACTION REGARDING THE SITUATION WOULD BE APPRECIATED. **

His teeth ground in irritation, crumbling the document and tossing the discarded ball of paper to the opposite end of the room. The numerous complaints about Westcross were starting to get ridiculous. It was not like they could successfully breach the danger of the Wilds without punishment. Some of his admirers believed he could vanquish monsters, tear the horns off a minotaur with his bare hands if he could, though that was, most definitely, not the case.

Hitsugaya was notified for his prodigious talent with numerous weapons, strategic tactics and communication skills. From the time he was five he was able to snap perfectly positioned arrows on a crossbow and release fire in seconds. Once he was eight he was able to chop down ten haystack dummies with dual-wielded swords.

Soon enough, Jyuushiro Ukitake, the former Captain of the Obsidian Lion Inquisition, took notice of his exceptional abilities and immediately took him under his wing. Through intense conditioning and terms that were deemed to only meet those of the most demanding, he completed the most daunting of tasks and proved himself in the presence of the Wilds. He believed that tactical and physical skills were simultaneously important, as his only fatal flaw was his devastatingly short temper.

His mentor Ukitake believed so as well. Even so, once the wise instructor retired, he passed his badge on to his greatest—and most gifted—student.

Hitsugaya was sixteen when he was placed in charge of the Eastwield Inquisition. He was honored, of course, but the work that came along with such a position was simultaneously envied and loathed. Those who supported him donned his image in their scrapbooks, dyed their hair the same color, sported badges with his face printed on their surfaces.

His seemingly endless list of admirers was also distracting.

_The last thing I need right now is a wife_. It was not like he'd never had a sexual experience, though those events were deemed as only noticed behind closed doors and never acknowledged again. He could hardly remember the faces of the women he took to his bed—clearly they were not important enough for him to even recall a single name.

He stood up from his desk, admonishing the heavy amount of work he would have to complete later, and reminisced about the days when he never had to worry about anything. Suddenly, he was disappointed with himself, and he regretted ever thinking the words.

_Be thankful. Thankful that you're alive. _He was also thankful he wasn't one of the poor souls that lost their lives wandering the Wilds. It took years of training to prepare to enter the Wilds and dodge the defiled fog; illusions plagued those who traveled within, and it was not recommended for even the strongest of minds to wander without receiving specific lessons.

A knock on the door drew his attention. He hoped to the very gods it wasn't Matsumoto. "Come in."

The entrance creaked open, and Hitsugaya's eyes hardened in recognition.

"Ah. You. What the hell do you want?"

The stranger was one of the most hideous men to ever form a reputation in Eastwield. He was hunched over, dressed in elaborate purple and crimson robes, threaded through with red and gold. His face was painted black and white, hints of gold painting his chin and ears as well.

"A report from the hospital of course, Captain Hitsugaya, sir," the man whispered, his voice traveling stealthily, like that of a snake.

Hitsugaya swiped the report out of the man's hands and glanced over the title. He sighed and pressed one finger to his temple. "Mayuri," he grumbled. "How many reports do I need to receive in order to tell you the same thing?" He glared angrily towards one of the residents that never seemed to listen. "I can't handle these affairs. If you want something figured out in the hospital, go to Unohana. She handles the medical department. You know this."

Mayuri hesitated. "Yes, well…" He chuckled grimly. "Perhaps you failed to notice that these medicinal properties are not obtainable through Unohana—"

"Drugs are out of the question," Hitsugaya snapped. "Get out of here. Now. I don't want to deal with you or your ridiculous requests."

He was gone within half a second.

Today would, indeed, be _busy_.

* * *

Children's laughter drowned out through the intense sounds of pounding instruments and wolf barks; the combined noises drew the attention of the public of Westcross who cared enough about the forthcoming events. With her fingers drilled into the fine new loaf of crackling bread in her hands, Rukia stared from atop one of the largest buildings in the square, and watched as her best childhood friend recited the pledge to the Iron Dragons.

At age twenty, he was but a maximized version of his ten-year-old self. His body was trimmed with wiry cords of muscle, his hair an erratic array of black spikes that shone silver in the starlight, and his expression was just as chiseled and masculine as the rest of him. However, he never grew out of the childish glow that made him so close to Rukia.

Within minutes, Rukia noticed a familiar woman run towards him and tackle him in an embrace. She was beautiful, her deep brunette hair strung up in a bun, dressed in a long flowing gown colored as white as pearls, and her kindness radiated like the sun.

She was Miyako Shiba, Kaien's wife.

The minute they married, Rukia felt like an abrasive burden in her former childhood friend's life. It was true that when he met Miyako, he was positively star-struck at her beauty and sparkling personality, since she was not from the incredibly poor foundation of Rukongai. A jeweler, as wealthy as a resident of Westcross could get, had raised her. Miyako was impressed by Kaien's glowing ambition and dreams of becoming an Iron Dragon.

They were two days away from celebrating their one-year wedding anniversary. Rukia was happy for the both of them, despite the solemnity that dulled her days whenever she realized that she could not say hello to Kaien without feeling like she was intruding on something.

She tore off a piece of bread and shoved it into her mouth, watching Kaien prepare himself with the other Iron Dragons, ready to scan the Wilds, past the safety of the wall that was the only driving force that separated the dangers of outside from the compound inside. Westcross was completely defenseless without the wall, and Rukia wondered if Eastwield was the same way.

Kaien's head turned halfway to smile once more at his wife, though his gaze locked with Rukia's, and instantly his expression fell. He looked positively crestfallen, and Rukia felt a stabbing pain of guilt. She looked away first, breaking contact with the pair of eyes that she use to be so familiar with.

_It's for the best. It's his dream, not yours. He's still your friend, he just has more important things set out for his future. And you know that. _

She sighed, glaring at the annoyingly delicious loaf of bread in her hands. She was surprised she even paid for this—picked it up from the Rukongai Bakery with the limited amount of copper talents that she had. If she were still seven she would have stolen a lookalike loaf with Kaien and laughed about it for days, thinking she was the thieving queen of the world.

"Nice loaf of bread you got there."

Rukia squeaked and jumped, immediately nailing the supposed stranger in the chin. Kaien stumbled back, grasping his face and blinking owlishly at his friend. He then burst into laughter at the redness in her face, and the temptation was greater than ever to ruffle her hair.

"Dang, Ruk'. Still pack a punch!"

She blinked, flushed. "Kaien! I thought—you were—"

"Relax. I have a few minutes until I leave for the oh-so-scary demon forest of our childhood nightmares." Kaien smirked crookedly. "We haven't talked in a while." He tilted his head to the side, suddenly noticing the fact that his once dear friend was dressed in ragged clothing, her face splotched in dust and grime. "Ruk'." He sighed, looking and feeling quite guilty. "You really haven't changed."

Rukia crossed her arms. "It's not like I wanted to be an Iron Dragon." She raised an eyebrow. "Or, you know, get married."

Kaien frowned. "Um, well, if this is about Miyako—"

"_No_," Rukia interjected. "No. This has nothing to do with Miyako. She seems great. Really great." She smiled weakly. "I mean, it's not like you would just choose anyone, right?"

Kaien looked even more broken down, like someone just told him his favorite pet passed away from a dreadful disease. "Ruk'—Rukia. You know it's not like that. You're my best friend. I've told Miyako all about you. You would like her." He grinned, though at the sight of her face he resulted in scratching the back of his head.

An awkward silence stretched between them.

Kaien shrugged, realizing that there was little to no point in trying to talk to his friend at the moment. "Well, yeah, I should probably join the others. They're starting to head out and the regime's pretty strict."

"Yeah. You should go." Rukia's fragile smile remained. "I'll be rooting for you to slaughter all the demons. Bring back a brain for me if you can."

Kaien grinned. "Will do, little Ruk'." He winked. "Will do."

She watched him leave, waving to some admiring citizens of the compound and kissing his beautiful wife goodbye.

Neither the wife nor the best friend had any idea how long-lasting that goodbye would be.

* * *

**New project! Have the outline ready and everything. Hope you all enjoyed, and man I really do miss writing. College has taken a toll on my schedule and personal life. I still love HitsuRuki and am really enjoying this idea so far. If you have any questions PM me, drop a review please if you have constructive criticism, anything is welcome!**

**Thank you! **

**\- Sulfur Dusk**


	2. What Dwells in the Wilds

**Beyond the Withered Ferns**

* * *

**II**

What Dwells in the Wilds

* * *

Seven days. Seven long—_agonizingly _long—days had passed since Kaien Shiba and several other Iron Dragons departed for their mission into the Wilds. Any sane person would have told them not to leave at the time they did, or just begged for them not to go at all. However, the Iron Dragons specialized in this sort of thing.

They should've been back by now.

Rukia hastily played with her fingers, watching from atop the bakery where she and Kaien used to sit as children. She glanced over the passersby; by living in an incredibly small portion of the Westcross district, and she knew practically everyone in this area alone, though it felt even lonelier without her best friend at her side.

_Kaien, you idiot. Where the heck are you? _She sighed, leaning back onto the wooden rooftop and staring up at the night sky. Stars glimmered here and there, not enough for her to pick out a constellation and drift off.

It wasn't like she wasn't used to the concept of losing someone, but Kaien… Kaien was her friend. Her only friend. Even though the last several years had been incredibly difficult, with him moving into strict training regimes and falling in love with a beautiful young woman, she still considered him to be the most important person in her life. Anyone with a brain could see that they knew each other on a level that wasn't only palpable, it was _embraceable_.

"Oh, where could they be?!" Rukia blinked at hearing the intruding voice, sitting back up and glancing down at the cobblestone streets. Below her, she recognized one of the ladies of nobility from a farther corner of the district, barely scraping the "poor section's" borders. She was dressed in fine silks, boasting colors ranging from rich, deep purples to bright yellows and pearly whites.

"I assure you, as soon as they return we will ask them what had taken so long. This is part of their job, Miss. It is essential that we do our best to keep them calm, healthy and comfortable—"

"Oh, really? Before or _after _they come back as corpses? Even as the district healer I hardly find you worthy of telling me that my son is totally safe out there in the Wilds!" The woman was starting to become hysterical, and it not until now that Rukia actually noticed who she was talking to.

The healer in question, Unohana Retsu, was one of the most well-respected individuals in all of Westcross. She was a proud, silent, and strong woman, always dressed in heavy draping robes that ranged in light colors; currently, the laces were trimmed with ruffles and shaded beige and white. She always looked peaceful, with her hair swept forward into a singular raven braid.

"I will need you to calm down," Unohana whispered reassuringly, wearing a kind, comforting smile. "They will return. I promise you. The Iron Dragons know exactly what they're doing when it comes to patrolling the Wilds to ensure the safety of Westcross. You should be proud of your son for what he is willing to do for his home."

In a way, she was right, but Rukia could tell that Unohana was simply doing her best to keep the residents as calm as possible. The fact that the squadron hadn't returned only made matters worse, since it only usually took about a day for them to scout the Wilds and return with helpful news for the district leaders. Unohana was one of the officials, though Rukia doubted that she wanted to believe in the possibility of Westcross losing good people to the terrible forces of the Wilds.

Suddenly, the horns atop the gates to Westcross broke the eerie silence. The sound played whenever the squadron returned from patrol, though it sounded much more urgent than usual. Craning her neck, Rukia quickly jumped down from the top of the bakery, her bare feet stinging from the impact.

She stared, wondering, hoping, that her friend would be there, ready to tell her about his long adventure and spill unnecessary details that would give her simultaneous headaches of annoyance and joy. She just wanted Kaien to be safe.

_Come on… _The gates were slowly creaking open. Damn things were so wooden and unbearably old. They needed to be updated soon. Rukia only wondered what would happen if creatures from the Wilds tried attacking their gates and broke through the barrier of wood like a giant fist through splinters.

One by one, citizens started exiting their homes, their shops, the same hope and concern flashing in their eyes as well. Rukia bristled, wondering if anyone would care if the casual street rat like she could even be amongst them. She couldn't care less if she was around the richest man in the world while greeting the returning squadron at the gates, but she knew others would.

It wasn't like Westcross was the staple of riches and glory, but certain individuals still felt entitled to their miniscule amount of wealth.

She tensed, watching as Kaien's wife, Miyako, quickly dashed to the front of the growing crowd without a second thought. Rukia smiled slightly, though solemnly.

_She really loves you, Kaien. Anyone could see that. _She shook her head. That wasn't the focus at the moment. Miyako was very lucky to have Kaien, but Kaien never seemed to think so when he was courting her, still an unlucky apprentice to the Iron Dragons. He tried his best to impress her, and she always appreciated his efforts and thought him charming, but even after all that, he believed he was never good enough to fall in love and take care of such an "amazing, incredible, lovely, kind woman" like Miyako.

Rukia quickly skirted along the sides of the crowd, and she spotted Unohana calmly waiting by the watchtowers beside the gates, a basket of herbs beside her. Some of her assistants were seated obediently at her side; they were always placed there in order to safely escort the squadron soldiers to the hospital in Westcross if they so desired or needed.

Just as she looked forward again, Rukia saw that the gates fully opened. With great anticipation, she lowered her gaze, and found that her heart dropped to her toes.

Out of the twenty men that left seven days ago, only one was standing before the eagerly awaiting crowd, and he had already dropped to his knees. The armor strapped to his wounded flesh was beginning to fall; plates of refined steel and strips of leather looked like they would unwind within moments. Unohana's shock resonated amongst the crowd at seeing him so injured, and with his helmet concealing his features, Rukia could not tell who he was.

But a part of her knew immediately that it _wasn't _Kaien.

She glanced over at Miyako, and noticed that her hopeful smile had dropped to a crestfallen, surprised frown. Her hands were clasped together, knuckles blanched white and shaking to the very core. Rukia could hardly contain her own surprise, but seeing Kaien's own wife tremble in reaction to this could only mean one thing.

"There… t-there are m-monsters in… t-the Wilds…" the last Iron Dragon shuddered, collapsing at Unohana's feet. She closed her eyes, shaking her head and glancing at the crowd of shocked people, the very same Westcross citizens that hoped their friends and loved ones had returned in one piece.

"This is very urgent," she called out. "The Iron Dragons appear to be missing, and this man, bless his heart, has reportedly seen monsters in the Wilds."

A collective gasp arose within the crowd. Rukia shook her head. She expected there to be _something _dangerous in the Wilds. It was the reason they all feared it in the first place.

But that meant…

Miyako Shiba moved before Rukia could, rushing to the fallen man's side. She placed her hands on him, shaking her head repeatedly and whispering questions to him. Rukia slowly started moving forward, and then stopped. What if she was intruding on something that was only valuable to Kaien? What if she was taking away from Miyako's moment of grief and worry?

"I-I'm sorry… Miss Shiba… K-Kaien… K-Kaien…" the soldier gasped, and within seconds the froth that bubbled from his lips turned pink from blood. Miyako remained strong, nodding in understanding and sadness.

"Please… please, young sir, did you see him at all? Did you see what happened to my Kaien?"

A part of Rukia selfishly twitched at the words _my Kaien_, but she quickly pushed it aside for the wife of her best friend's sake. She waited, closing her eyes in thought and letting her fists clench in anger at what just happened. Kaien was so stupid, so foolish, always wanting to protect everyone around him and not giving a second thought to his own needs.

If he was dead…

_No. I don't believe he's dead_, Rukia thought stubbornly. _There's no way he's dead. _

She pictured his face when they were younger, ten years old, still braving the ideas of the world and wishing to become one of the highly regarded Westcross Iron Dragons. He would have done anything to protect those he loved. He adored his people, his friends, Rukia, his wife…

_Kaien you stupid, stupid, _stupid _idiot_.

Unohana gently placed a hand on Miyako's shoulder. "Miss Shiba," she began, sighing sadly. "I'm sorry to say that the likelihood of your husband returning anytime soon is unlikely. I must bring this solder to the hospital."

"Yes…" Miyako shuddered, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. "I understand. Thank you, Unohana."

Rukia hesitated. She wanted to comfort Miyako for Kaien's sake. She'd never even talked to the woman before, but if Kaien fell in love with her, she must have been a wonderful person. She could tell that she was kind, and beautiful, and sweet-natured and strong, but how was she even supposed to make her presence?

… Did Miyako even know who Rukia was?

Just as the thought crossed her mind, Miyako stood up and locked gazes with her. Rukia's eyes widened at the sight of the pulsating tears cascading down the other's cheeks and the slick redness in her soft eyes.

"… I'm sorry," Miyako said sheepishly as she strode over to her. She sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "You probably think I'm such a fool, standing over here and bawling about my husband, when I should have faith that he is still alive." She smiled weakly.

Rukia blinked owlishly. Why was she talking to her first…? "I'm… very sorry." She shook her head. "I don't believe Kaien is dead either. He's a," she paused, trying to pick just one out of many, many words that could describe the spirit of Kaien Shiba, "strong-willed person."

"Yes, very," Miyako chuckled, and the tears only continued gathering. Rukia's heart started to ache for this woman. "I'm sorry, I never got your name."

Rukia held back the surprise that probably registered on her face once she said those words. So Kaien never mentioned her after all. "I'm Rukia. I was childhood friends with your husband."

Instantly, an apologetic look crossed Miyako's features. "Oh, I am so sorry! I didn't know that you…" She glanced over Rukia's clothes, and the street rat wondered if she was confused about her status in society since Kaien married into a rich family and she was still dressed head to toe in rags. "I'm sorry, so sorry. Forgive my rudeness. Kaien always talks about a Miss Rukia. I had no idea that you were her!" She almost laughed. "I've seen you lingering around the bakery and the fountains from time to time, and I always thought you looked so pensive, so thoughtful. So… somber."

Rukia _was _happy to hear that Kaien mentioned her to his supposedly perfect wife, but the fact that the other held _pity _for her was starting to annoy her. "I'm fine, really. Living on the streets isn't that bad." And that was a lie. It was horrid, but she was not going to disclose that information. "Kaien is probably in the Wilds somewhere, waiting to return to you as fast as possible. I doubt there's too much holding him back."

She cracked a smile in hopes of lightening the mood, but the look that crossed both of the women's faces made it seem too grim and too early.

Miyako sighed shakily. "Again, I apologize. You must be just as devastated as me. But, you are right." She dipped her head. "I should not give in to the idea of Kaien's death so easily. He is strong, as you say, and I know him so well. I don't want to lose my grip on him yet."

Rukia nodded in understanding. She glanced at the gates, and a sudden wave of impulse took over her. She doubted that anyone would go searching for them. If anyone was lost to the Wilds, that was it. They were goners, never to be seen again.

Rukia's shoulders quaked. What would Kaien do if the situation were reversed?

_He would dash through those gates right now and try to find you, stupid. _

She couldn't believe what she was thinking. Here she was, exchanging pleasantries with Kaien's possible _widow_, and her overprotective spirit longed to dash through those dreadful gates and search out the one person that meant the most to her. Kaien would have paved back the world to find Rukia… and the universe to rescue his wife if she was in his situation.

The gates were slowly beginning to close. As usual, it took several minutes, but Rukia's arms and legs rippled with gooseflesh. If she took her consideration seriously, she would be making simultaneously the most ridiculous, stupid, and brave decision of her life.

_The Wilds have Kaien… if he's out there, I could find him. I could bring him back. His wife would still be safe here, and she wouldn't have to worry about losing me. _No, no, Miyako would only have to worry about her husband returning, and if Rukia found him, there was a chance.

What if the man was paranoid, and there were no monsters? He was injured of course, but if there were any possible way to get Kaien to return, she would have to go find him herself.

Within seconds, she broke into a sprint, but her heels braked into the earth once Miyako's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. Rukia was surprised at this, staring back at Kaien's saddened, heartbroken wife.

"What are you doing?" she breathed slowly.

Rukia only stared, and then yanked her hand away. "Don't worry," she started, and tried smiling. "I'll find him."

Before Miyako's protest could ever register in her recklessly pounding eardrums, Rukia dashed away from her as fast as she could. She ignored everything else around her, including the shock of Unohana's widened eyes and the distraught expressions on the faces of the gatekeepers.

"_Rukia_!"

Within seconds, Rukia was on the other side of the only world she had ever known.

* * *

The disgusting monster dispersed in a shower of ichor and spirit blood. The powerful energy radiating from the creature that once stood as a threat to the borders of Eastwield was now vanquished under the power of a long, lightly curved blade.

Hitsugaya regarded the mess with narrowed eyes. He had ventured into the Wilds with his faithful lieutenant, Matsumoto Rangiku, (this time without the usual few other select followers) to find the source of intense energy that drifted from the heart of the dangerous territory. This strip of forestry was forbidden to cross for many reasons, though he had managed within the last few years as the Captain Inquisitor, and a brief task like this was a piece of cake otherwise.

"That's the fourth one this week," Matsumoto acknowledged, sweeping her long locks behind her shoulders. She was dressed in a jumpsuit made of old, washed leather and littered with indestructible armor pieces delivered firsthand from the Diamond Quarter, the richest district in all of Seireitei and the home to the Palace of Kings. It was an honor to wear such valuable armor, though Matsumoto knew to take care of each piece in case the deal would backfire.

It was definitely a must for protection in the Wilds.

Hitsugaya rolled his shoulders. He was dressed in similar attire, boasting the familiar badge of the Inquisition that showcased Eastwield's Obsidian Lion. His colors mostly ranged from black to gray and white, which Matsumoto constantly teased him for, but it was necessary to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies and let the foul citizens of Westcross know that he wasn't playing games.

He glanced over his blade, noticing the strange patterns in the monster's blood that he had just spilled. He groaned, sighing in dismay at the recognizable energy source that had transferred to the plasma. "This… was a Hollow, Matsumoto. It is a surprise that it could bleed, but that means there were people in the Wilds before we arrived. Illegal ones."

Hollows were creatures that manifested from the corrupted souls and twisted hearts of the foolish people who dared venture into the Wilds without the power of the Inquisition. The mists that folded through the Wilds like serpents would cause the loners to go insane and lose their minds and bodies to demonic entities that lurked in another dimension entirely. Hitsugaya and his Inquisition were immune to such effects, though the fact that he had just slain a Hollow meant there were possibly many more.

"But… a Hollow hasn't appeared in so long, Captain," Matsumoto inquired. Her eyes narrowed, gooseflesh gracing her arms as she said those words. "Sure that's the fifth _creature _that's tried attacking us, but how can you be so sure that it was a Hollow?"

"Have you forgotten the spiritual pressure that radiates from these monsters, Matsumoto?" Hitsugaya muttered, shaking his head. "My blade can sense it as well as I can. It has been a very long time, but this means that Westcross is missing a few idiots. That is the only explanation I can think of."

The woman hesitated, though she found it pointless to argue with her superior at the moment. Her ability to sense the pressure from the monsters in the Wilds was not nearly as strong as Hitsugaya's, so most of the time she found that she frequently took his word for it.

"We need to head deeper. Something is amiss," the white-haired man muttered, casting suspicious glances through the tall, ominous labyrinth of winding trees and blankets of fog. "We must be careful, though."

"As per usual, Capi-tan!" Matsumoto cheered.

"… Not now, you imbecile," he grumbled in reply. Without further hesitation, he sheathed his sword—just one of many powerful blades forged from soul steel that were dubbed _Zanpakuto_—and trudged on.

The next several hours of sauntering proved to be more or less obnoxious, rather than exhausting. The fog had attempted to draw him further towards the heart of the woods, though he knew that it was the pressure of the possible Hollows that drew him tot hose territories. He warned a distracted Matsumoto several times not to follow the threads of energy that twined through the fog.

"We've been searching for _hours_," Matsumoto whined, stretching her arms above her head and pouting in misery. "I don't understand why we won't just follow the pressure threads and kill the Hollows before they go rampaging."

Hitsugaya pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know that the Hollows are not going to try and make an open attack on Westcross or Eastwield. They're hungry, searching for souls to devour in order to make them stronger. If we follow the threads, we will be walking directly into a trap. And, for the record, I refuse to die at the expense of a Hollow's appetite."

He knew that when they were finished scouting and possibly purging the remaining Hollows, he would have to make a report to the Diamond Quarter and the Palace of Kings as soon as possible. Usually when he contacted them, they responded with utter annoyance and lack of understanding for the situation, as they were never concerned with what occurred in the Wilds. The Capitol was protected by an immense marble-stone dam that only allowed residents to pass through.

Eastwield and Westcross alike envied the Capitol of Seireitei for that reason alone.

"Captain," Matsumoto whispered, stopping in her tracks and grasping the hilt of her _Zanpakuto_. "Did you hear that?"

Hitsugaya drove his heels into the ground, concentrating, listening for anything within the Wilds. The usual river of silence that flowed through the forest was all that he heard… until something small, but definitely audible, clicked in his senses.

A Hollow. And it was powerful, and very close.

He held his breath, cautiously fingering the edge of the blade strapped to his hip. He knew that he and Matsumoto had probably wandered into new territory altogether, and that this would most likely cost him his life if he weren't careful. He wasn't going to let Matsumoto suffer the consequences if he could help it, but regardless, the threat remained, and it was definitely _there_.

"Stay in the trees, Matsumoto," Hitsugaya murmured, pivoting at the slight crackling of a nearby branch.

His lieutenant blinked in confusion. "What? But, Captain—"

"The _trees_, Matsumoto!" He barked, glaring at her directly now. She blinked at the pure ferocity shining in those teal orbs, and she sighed at his demands. He was too protective, even for her sake.

Regardless, she decided to obey him this time and leap into the trees. She stayed hidden amongst the branches as her captain wandered the earth.

"It's close. Be ready," the Captain Inquisitor warned. He could feel his heart pounding rapidly against his chest, the surges of simultaneous anticipation and fear suddenly gripping his senses and hurling him into overdrive. He needed to concentrate, but it was only so long until he would be able to withstand the almost hypnotic traces of the mist.

And then, the sound he expected the _least _to occur within the Wilds, suddenly reverberated towards him and caused his level of surprise to escalate through the roof.

"_Kaien_?'

A woman.

* * *

The moment she stepped out into the Wilds, Rukia had no idea what to expect. The tall, ominous trees, the gnarled serpentine roots that wove in and out of earth, and the widely known barrier of mist that practically shielded the Wilds… they were figments of legends, and yet Rukia was stupid enough to actually try and venture into these woods herself, to see if she could right a wrong, and save someone she truly cared for.

Yet now, after hours of searching, she had come face-to-face with the least-likely thing she expected. Surrounding her, her breath barely escaped her tightly clenching windpipe, and she wondered if the mist was causing her to see hallucinations, for all she could see were the dismembered corpses of the Iron Dragons of Westcross. Their blood and torn flesh circulated through the air, and she noticed that there were only a few bodies that suffered this penalty.

She was unable to move, unable to think. She sighed shakily, desperately trying to keep her composure, and that was when she noticed something else lurking in the faded domain. Standing there was a lanky, wobbling figure, that somewhat resembled a human… she noticed the familiar tufts of spiked hair, and suddenly a new voice broke her stream of conscience.

"_R-Rukia_…"

She swallowed in utter disbelief. "K-Kaien… _Kaien_? Is that you?" She could barely believe the words escaping her mouth. She stepped back cautiously, not sure if she should trust whatever was lurking there, or if this person really _was_ Kaien.

But then again…

He showed his face, and he looked like Kaien… but very different. His armor was completely shattered; nothing but broken pieces that clung to his scarred, scratched, wounded and bloodied body. His eyes were vacant and appeared almost lifeless, the grim line of his mouth tightening at the sight of the girl. She wondered what he would say to her next, and suddenly she expected herself to believe that this really was Kaien.

It had to be.

"Kaien… I… I can't believe I found you. I can't believe you're _alive_—"

"Rukia," he cut her off, coughing and collapsing from his balance on one of the trees. He heaved and spat out droplets of blood. Rukia blanched and rushed to his side, but he roughly pushed her away. "_No_! Rukia, stay away from me! D-Don't… ack…" he coughed, trembling. "Don't come any closer… you have no idea what's happening here…"

Rukia ignored the hurt that grasped her heart at his denouncing of her, but she would not stand for it now. "Kaien, the others back in Westcross believe you're dead! That all of you are dead. I have to take you back." Her fists clenched. "I can take you back, and Unohana can heal you. She can make sure that you live."

"_No_, _Rukia_!" Kaien roared, possibly with all the strength he could muster. It was then that Rukia noticed something very strange about her best friend. His scars were colored an odd black color, pulsing with a foreign energy she had never seen nor heard of before.

She stepped back, eyes wide. "Kaien, what's happened to you? What did this to you?"

"I can't… explain," Kaien mumbled, growling in frustration. "But Rukia… you need to get out of here. _Now_. T-The things that attacked us… killed us," he hesitated. "I'm… going to be one of them…"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was like she was trapped in a distorted fairy tale and forced to witness the darkest consequences. She couldn't lose her friend like this. "Kaien, I'm not leaving without you!"

"You _have _to, Rukia! If you don't go I'll make you!" Tears began to pool around his eyes, desperation choking his voice to only fractions of what they were before. "If you don't go I'll _kill _you."

Rukia bristled. "You don't mean that—"

"_Rukia_, _I'm not going to have a choice_!" he whispered harshly. He screamed in pain, collapsing to the ground as the scars began to widen, the black energy starting to swallow him completely. He sobbed and choked, his fingers digging ferociously into the ground, his tears turning red with blood. "_Get out_… _or_…" He looked up desperately at her shocked face, her eyes that betrayed no emotion since they were young.

"_Get out_… _or kill me_…"

Rukia was frozen in place, her body unable to comprehend what was happening, as the body of her childhood friend, the one person she could rely on and protect with all her might while he did the same, became swallowed up in the essence of black and darkness that would leak further into the Wilds. His figure contorted, the screams endless, ominous, and his human features disintegrated to that of a creature she had never seen before.

It was grotesque, disgusting, and pulsed with a painful, dark force of energy she was not accustomed to in the slightest. She could only watch as the monster towered easily above her, and Kaien's voice drizzled from the tragic creature like a disembodied echo.

"_Foolish Rukia_, _you should have run while you had the chance_."

Rukia's mouth hung open, her heart beating a mile a minute. "_Kaien_?"

The creature drew back a massive arm, armed to the brim with massive shadowed talons, intent on killing her instantly. She could barely move still, frozen in place, forced to watch this darkened embodiment of Kaien Shiba that she had hoped to never be in her presence.

And then, the monster screamed in immense pain, the clawed hand dropping to the floor in a splurging shower of black and rippling white flesh. Rukia blanched at the sight, and stared in surprise at the force of power that could perform such a feat.

In her presence were one man and one woman, both completely unrecognizable and dressed in armor that would put the Iron Dragons to shame. The woman was much taller, and her long waves of strawberry blonde hair was luscious and rivaled any heads of hair of the women back in Westcross. The man was about her height, and his spikes of frosty hair betrayed the youthful essence he presented.

"_Be gone_, _Hollow_!" the man screeched, drawing a long, powerful-looking blade and leaping at inhuman heights. Rukia watched, amazed, awestruck, as her two saviors cut down the creature that was once Kaien.

"Wait…" Rukia shook her head, finally snapping out of her stupor. "_Wait_!"

* * *

Hitsugaya slashed brutally through the newly formed Hollow's essence, hoping to dispel the creature as soon as he was able to find its possible weak point. Matsumoto was scrambling around the monster, dishing various attacks that weakened it considerably. It was far stronger than the previous Hollow he encountered, and its intentions were purely set on killing the woman standing in utter shock behind them.

"_Wait_!" He heard her yell, her voice deep, feminine and laced with desperation. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he continued attacking the Hollow, dodging the heavy swipes of the other arm, and occasionally glancing at Matsumoto to be sure she was still breaking down the balance of their target.

Within minutes, the Hollow finally collapsed, the essence chipped away and the blackened energy circulating through the Wilds like a separate river. The fog would be drenched with that warning signal for at leas twenty-four hours, though Hitsugaya was shocked to see that the lump the Hollow used to be still showed traces of human within it. He could make out a pair of eyes, a mouth, and arms that struggled immensely to stand.

However, he was still a lost cause. He drew his blade, ready to make the final strike, and he felt his wrist halted by frighteningly cold and thin fingers. He glanced over his shoulder, and it was then that he finally noticed the girl he and Matsumoto had rescued out of the blue.

She looked so young. She was probably even younger than him. Seventeen, probably. Her face was youthful, glistening with energy that he had not seen before in anyone. She had large, expressive violet-blue eyes that practically oozed twenty to twenty-five emotions at once. She was glancing at the crumpled figure of the Hollow desperately, though her grip was surprisingly strong on his own.

He blinked owlishly, and came back to his senses. He yanked his wrist away, glaring icily towards the stranger. "_What _do you think you're _doing_, you stupid girl? This is a _Hollow_, a monster that surely would have devoured you whole have it not been for my lieutenant and I!"

She clearly didn't listen to a single word she said, as her gaze was still glued to the distorted form set in front of them.

Matsumoto's blue orbs shined with pity. "What my captain means to say, is that his man… what has happened to him is irreversible. He is a lost cause."

The girl snapped her attention to the captain, and those emotions of sadness were immediately replaced with those of ferocity and anger. "I _know that he's a lost cause_." She shook her head. "Just…" She trembled, her clenched fists shaking in reaction to the loss that she had probably just suffered. "Let me do it."

The request rang through the quietness of the Wilds like a hot knife through butter. Hitsugaya could not believe the words that entered his ears. He stared at the girl strangely, and suddenly wondered how she could be composing herself in the Wilds, and maintaining normal human nature when she was clearly not used to the forest's presence.

"And your reason?" he inquired, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. Matsumoto stared at him in surprise. Normally he would have told the person he rescued to be quiet, watch, and observe, as he would cut down the brutal demon before them. However, something within him seemed to click in reaction to this girl's unusual request.

The girl hesitated, her lip trembling. "He… was my friend. Before he turned into that… thing, he begged me to do it. To kill him. I was too shocked to do anything."

Hitsugaya blinked, not expecting that answer. This girl was not lusting for blood or seeking revenge in the slightest. She had met with a disastrous fate, and he had not encountered a victim like her in a very long time. He glanced at the crumpled form of the Hollow, towards Matsumoto, and back to the strange girl.

He sighed, and sheathed his blade, tilting his head in the direction of the Hollow while eyeing Matsumoto. "Let her do it, Lieutenant."

The curvaceous woman was startled at his request, though she nodded and handed her blade to the girl expectantly. Unlike her rather cold-faced captain, she brandished a warm smile in understanding.

The girl sighed shakily and took the sword from the other's hands, curious about the growth in weight in the blade in comparison to Kaien's old training ones back in Westcross. While she could still fully not grasp the situation at hand, she gripped the handle as if she was born to do so.

She stared into the Hollow's pulsing, lifeless black holes for eyes.

Hitsugaya wondered for a brief, voluntary second, on how this odd girl could see so much humanity within a demon, no matter how dire the circumstance.

She pierced the blade into the heart of the creature, and afterwards she crumpled to the ground and sobbed.

Matsumoto drew her blade out from the carcass, eyeing her captain curiously. She beckoned for him to follow her away from the solemn scene and allow the girl some privacy. Once they were out of earshot, she stared at the shorter man with a risen eyebrow and a slight smirk gracing her polished lips.

"I've never seen you perform such a display, Captain," she chuckled. "I mean, the scene is sad on its own… the poor girl."

Hitsugaya was still watching her, only half-listening to his subordinate. "… Matsumoto. Her energy levels are completely normal. Her emotions are human. Her actions…" He shook his head. "She is a normal girl, and yet, the Wilds have not affected her in the slightest. To her, it appears that it is just a confusing forest to wander through, not a trap of hallucinations."

Matsumoto considered that for a moment. "Well," she began, "she's from Westcross. No one from Eastwield is dressed like that, not even the poorest of the poor." She noticed the slight stiffening action of her superior's shoulders. "That doesn't mean we can't help her, Captain," she added, smiling kindly. "I can sense that you wish to see if she'll be alright—"

"I don't care what happens to her," Hitsugaya retorted sharply, bristling. "I'm only wondering how someone who is _not _an Inquisitor could be totally immune to the effects of the Wilds."

* * *

Rukia's fingers grasped the cloth of her clothes, bunched up in her lap. She stared at the pool of black and white essence, the blood of the creature… what had the strange man said it was called? A Hollow?

She had promised Miyako that she would return to Westcross with her husband. Now, she would be forced to return with nothing but a broken promise, and tears to match her destructive wave of emotions. This was the worst possible fate that could have occurred for Kaien Shiba, and now his wife would suffer in longing for him.

She felt so guilty.

_I'm so sorry Kaien_… She wiped tears from her cheeks, wincing at the raw feel of her own skin. _I failed you_… _I failed you, and your wife, and just about everyone who liked you and respected you in Westcross_…

"Miss."

She straightened, realizing that her saviors had not left the scene after all. She glanced over her shoulder, meeting the curious gaze of the male dressed in fine, flexible material that had saved her with ferociously slashing blades.

In all honesty, she hadn't paid attention to his overall appearance until now. While he was covered in splotches of black from attacking the Hollow, his stark white hair was clearly naturally styled into those unusual wintry spikes. His skin was a couple shades darker than hers, smooth and easy on the eyes. She could tell from the essence he radiated that he was a powerful—albeit small—man. His brow was furrowed and his round teal eyes that resembled glass orbs were narrowed and serious.

He was handsome. Very handsome, even. No one in Westcross looked like that…

Yeah, no one in _Westcross_…

Once the information sunk in, she gasped, stood up and backed against a tree. She winced at the impact against her spine, and couldn't believe her eyes. "You… you're from Eastwield!" She pointed accusingly towards him, her grief momentarily forgotten. He stared at her blankly in return. "You're from Eastwield and you… bothered saving me? I don't understand."

"Save your questions for another time, girl," he stated, raising his hand to silence her. She bristled at him calling her _girl_.

"My _name _is Rukia," she growled. "I'm just as human as you, even if I'm from Westcross." She had heard many stories of the prejudiced behaviors of the rich dwellers of Eastwield, and how they viewed the people of Westcross as nothing but ants beneath their feet. "Thank you for rescuing me, but I'm going to head home now." She hesitated, wincing. "So that I can share the news."

"That won't be necessary."

Rukia stared at him dumbly. "Eh?"

She could've sworn she noticed the slightest _hint _of a smirk upturn the corners of his mouth, though he dismissed it almost as quickly as it came. He crossed his arms and gestured towards the outlandishly beautiful woman beside him, who looked more than delighted to see Rukia, oddly enough.

"You will be coming with us. To Eastwield."

Rukia bristled in shock. No, no, she had to return to Westcross and inform the others about Kaien's death, and the rest of the Iron Dragons, and the monsters that lived in the Wilds…

"I'm not going with you. I have to go home."

The woman smiled. "I'm sorry, dearie, but you're actually breaking quite a lot of laws at the moment. The Iron Dragons of Westcross are authorized to explore past the gates and into the Wilds on full authorization from the Palace of Kings. _Buuuuuut_, since you clearly _are not _an Iron Dragon—"

"Why does that matter?" Rukia huffed.

"Well, it means we have full priority to take you into custody. As in, you'll be joining us on our mission back to Eastwield."

Rukia's jaw dropped. _What_? "But… I mean, Kaien—"

"_That _will be taken care of," the man interjected. She glared at him angrily. "The Eastwield Inquisition will personally see to it that Westcross receives the news. However, legally, we cannot just let you go. That is against our regulations."

"Well it's against _all of my regulations _too!" Rukia snapped. She tried her best to look intimidating and independent, with her crossed arms and defiant posture, though she could tell it wasn't working from the humored looks on both of her saviors' faces.

Great.

The woman blinked in amusement. "Oh, Captain, can we keep her?" She practically squealed at the idea, and within seconds the man glared at her as if she questioned if they could sleep together or something more drastic like that.

"For the moment, we will be," he replied, sweeping his attention back to Rukia. "Miss, you are hereby under arrest under the authority of the Eastwield Inquisition. Specifically, Captain Hitsugaya and Lieutenant Matsumoto."

Under… arrest?

Rukia gaped. "You _cannot _be serious!" She needed to reach Miyako as soon as possible and inform her about Kaien… the tragedy still throbbed in the back of her mind, and she really couldn't believe that all of this was happening to her now, in this very moment, and she was forced to witness it all.

She squeaked once the man—Hitsugaya—zipped to where she was standing and took her wrist in his hand. He was inches apart from her, his breath as frosty as the color of his air.

"Be prepared," he murmured, "it will be a long trip."

* * *

**Thanks for the reviews/faves/alerts everyone! Looks like Rukia's in a bit of a situation. :P If you have any questions PM me and please drop a review!**

**Until next time!**

**\- Sulfur Dusk**


	3. Beginner's Steps

_**Beyond the Withered Ferns**_

* * *

**III**

Beginner's Steps

* * *

"I know you're not particularly thrilled with being in our company, little Rukia. But I must insist that you eat something…" The Eastwield Lieutenant—apparently named Matsumoto Rangiku—was quite adamant in her constant attempts to control her brand new prisoner; she had not wanted the reluctant traveller to starve while she was forced to accompany them back through the Wilds.

The carved apple she held out for the teenaged woman to eat was resting limply in her smooth fingers, and once the Kuchiki girl gave her a repeatedly sour glance, she decided it was best not to press the matter any further. Within one hour of leaving the burial of Kaien Shiba's body, Hitsugaya was wondering if the journey had been worth it at all.

This girl, Rukia, intrigued him. She had somehow evaded the immense torment of the Wilds, the entangling spellbound mystery of the fog, and traipsed to where her possessed, Hollowed friend had been, deep in the heart of the forests. It astounded him that she even lasted long enough to make it so far into the woods without being stripped and eaten alive by some other creature, as there were many other monsters that populated the Wilds other than deformed Hollows.

"You best not try to convince my captain here that stopping to rest is necessary. He fails to cooperate in that sort of thing," he heard his lieutenant whisper. And, as usual when she would try to strike up a conversation with their Westcross prisoner, she remained silent. "I really am sorry, dearie, about your friend…"

The girl straightened her shoulders and turned away from Matsumoto, her wrists contained in thick, overbearing iron shackles that would have driven any true criminal insane. It was ridiculous to her that she was to be kept as a prisoner to these Eastwield Inquisitors… part of their identity struck her as interesting, since she'd never even heard of the Inquisitors actually acting like this and maintaining such a high level of authority. The Iron Dragons from Westcross would never approach another individual like this and demand them to obey their orders.

Not even Kaien. The thought of her deceased friend sent chills along her spine, her blood following suit in a cloud of bitterness. She swallowed the uncomfortable bile that rose in the back of her throat, not wanting to think back to how he looked… how pained and horrified he was at his own becoming. She thought of Miyako, his wife, with her lovely face and kind disposition; she would never forgive Rukia for returning to Westcross without her husband safely in toe.

_She'll be devastated_… Rukia thought absentmindedly, her thumbs rubbing against each other in thought. She raised her head, glowering towards the infuriating man that, for some strange reason, constantly held his head high as if he was a man of royalty. "He had a wife."

Matsumoto blinked, surprised that the black-haired girl finally decided to speak. She tilted her head curiously. "What was that?"

Hitsugaya stopped as well, folding his arms in disinterest. "Repeat yourself and speak louder, woman."

The _nerve _of this man…

Rukia resisted the urge to growl, sighing deeply and exchanging looks between both the man and the woman from Eastwield. "Kaien. My friend. The one that turned into that monster back there." She couldn't even believe that the words were escaping her mouth; if she had any tears left in her body she would be shedding them consistently at this very moment. "He had a wife—no, has, technically. Her name is Miyako. She, like me, is from Westcross. She needs to know that her husband is dead."

Matsumoto seemed conflicted at this information. She glanced at her captain, wondering what his response would be regarding a request that wasn't exactly against the established rules for the Inquisitors.

Hitsugaya pivoted on his heel, turning around to face Rukia directly, his brow grumpily furrowed, as if his patience could not be bothered with the likes of Rukia's people. "She will be notified of his death by us. The contacts will make sure that the tragic news is delivered in due time."

"She shouldn't have to know in _due time_," Rukia snapped. "She should know _now_. Kaien was my best friend, I slew him with my bare hands to spare him from complete torture for the rest of his days… she needs to know that. They were planning to spend the rest of their lives together! To have children…" The more she spoke, she more she realized how distraught, traumatized and horrified Miyako will be when she eventually learned the fate of her husband.

"Captain," Matsumoto interjected, "perhaps we can—"

"Have you forgotten our code, Matsumoto?" Hitsugaya seethed, his voice piercing the thick air like crackling thunder. "We are Inquisitors, ranked as such and promised as such, and only to serve Eastwield in the best possible way. Bending and breaking the rules for one Westcross girl will only put our placement in jeopardy, and not solve anything whatsoever." His words were harsh and made no logical sense to Rukia—how could a simple message between two factions be such an impossible regulation?

"Is there really no way to let Kaien's wife know immediately about his fate?" Rukia was flabbergasted at this pompous man's claims.

"Unfortunately, we would have to get direct permission from one of the higher officials for communication details," Hitsugaya replied. "I'm afraid that Miss Shiba will have to wait to hear about her husband's demise."

With that, they trudged on through the Wilds, the fog flicking away from their bodies as if a force field was propped up around them. It took several minutes for Rukia to realize that the plated armor strapped to the bodies of her captors were slightly shimmering, radiating a foreign energy that was clearly interacting with their surroundings.

"How can you repel the fog?" Rukia questioned, half to herself.

Matsumoto smiled, as if delighted to answer whatever possible questions Rukia would have for her. She seemed a little bit too excited, at least according to the Westcross resident's opinion. "Inquisitors are trained to harness their abilities in a way that shapes them to their armor. My captain and I are very experienced in this field, and because of this, we can repel the cursed fog within the Wilds."

Hitsugaya seemed to be somewhat listening to the conversation, though he paid no mind to Matsumoto's casual answer. He didn't seem as perturbed as before, though Rukia could tell that there was something off about him, like if she even made him angry once he would go absolutely ballistic.

"If you have anymore thoughts about us, or about the Inquisition based in Eastwield, just ask away. You may be in our custody, but I'm not going to consider you a true prisoner… not unless you have information that should be uncovered anytime soon," Matsumoto said, winking slyly. "I highly doubt that will be a problem between us, little Rukia."

Rukia blinked at the strange friendliness that the woman showed her, especially in contrast to her superior. "What was your name again? I can't seem to remember."

"Lieutenant Matsumoto Rangiku," the other woman replied curtly. "Surely you have more interesting questions than that."

Rukia's nose wrinkled in thought. Matsumoto thought of such an action similar to a frustrated rabbit. "How big is Eastwield? And how far away is it?" It dawned on her that Eastwield would probably look nothing like Westcross, especially with the constant rumors circulating about the posh lifestyle and slandering propaganda. Maybe she would be able to glimpse objects of real value while in Eastwield; the thought never occurred to her before.

"Eastwield is quite large, though it's only a fraction of our divided kingdom. The Diamond Quarter reigns as the largest and most profitable segment of the nation. It's considered the Capitol of Seireitei, and it serves as the founding father and home to the Palace of Kings."

It sounded all so strange, like each detail was plucked from foreign tale that Rukia was destined to know, but somehow never learned within her own culture.

"Huh…" Rukia didn't know what to say. She really had too many questions to ask, and it seemed almost inappropriate that she would be asking bits of information that would be considered personal by anyone else.

Interestingly enough, Lieutenant Matsumoto Rangiku did not seem to care at all about boundaries.

"We're almost at the stables," Hitsugaya interjected, breaking their streaming conversation. "Perhaps you would be more accustomed to your duty, Matsumoto, rather than getting friendly with our prisoner." His words were harsher than expected, and Rukia wanted to break out of her shackles and smack him.

"She's just asking me questions," Matsumoto groaned, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Lighten _up_, Captain."

By the time the last tree in the Wilds was crossed, the three of them seemed to step into an entirely new world. A canvas of periwinkle sky suddenly blossomed overhead, printed with streaks of snowy white clouds. The soiled earth from the forest suddenly transferred to what looked like a small pasture of crisp emerald grass, something Rukia hadn't seen in a very long time.

The stables Hitsugaya spoke of were positioned just a few hundred yards ahead of them. Rukia spotted massive, beautiful horses grazing in the grass, with a friendly wooden house planted right next to them. A bricked chimney stuck out of the stables like a protruding snout, emitting a gentle tendril of smoke. The small settlement was perched on the outcropping of a long, winding river, where the currents of clear water ran under an arched, massive bridge.

Rukia glanced up to see a magnificently detailed sign—made from some black metal of sorts, she realized—where the face of a ferocious lion was perched. It was the symbol of the Eastwield District, the Obsidian Lion.

"It's…" Rukia couldn't believe the sight before her. How could it have possibly transferred so quickly, from the deep gloominess of the Wilds and suddenly into what looked like paradise to her?

She was speechless.

Hitsugaya seemed shocked at her reaction, one eyebrow raised. "Surely Westcross boasts a similar appearance."

Rukia snapped to him, blinking still and adjusting to what she had seen. She felt her lips twitch to form an elated smile at the beauty set before her, yet her heart swelled with sadness when she realized that a sight this gorgeous would never exist in Westcross, or anywhere near it.

"No. I've never seen anything like this before in my life," she whispered.

Hitsugaya remained silent, though he turned towards Matsumoto, as if Rukia's excitable discovery had no affect on him. "Let's go."

They kept moving, and Matsumoto kept chuckling at the adorable behavior Rukia was displaying. She was scrambling for things to say, overjoyed at the sight of the large, healthy and sturdy horses in the stables just outside their district, and she seemed taken aback by nearly every detail she saw.

"Here it is," Matsumoto announced, placing her feet abruptly. "These are the front doors to the District of Eastwield."

Rukia glanced up, absorbing each and every detail of the matching stones, the carved dark stone pillars, and the massive rosewood doors that boasted more expensive presence than the gates at Westcross would ever have. It was _huge_, easily dwarfing the already large entryway she was used to.

Hitsugaya approached the doors, holding out his right arm—which Rukia now noticed was clasped with a gauntlet of sorts—and within minutes a long chain of what sounded like a series of locking noises chorused up through the doors. The sound continued echoing until the rhythm stopped, and the doors slowly swung open wide, as if preparing a grand entryway.

Rukia was, once again, speechless.

Upon first entering Westcross, a resident would see small, barely impressive wooden shacks for buildings, with an occasional stone-built gem and the tower that served as Unohana's hospital. The training center for the Iron Dragons was prominent and large as well, though absolutely none of those monuments could compare to the few simple glances of what Rukia could not believe was the opposing district to Westcross.

Tall, broad buildings, some connected along the straight cobbled pathway where Matsumoto was leading her, were most likely the conventional shops. Rukia could smell a bakery from where she stood, and memories of she and Kaien stealing fresh loaves of bread flavored with cinnamon and raisins flooded her mind. Nostalgia caused her to make certain comparisons, especially with how these people dressed in comparison to most of the individuals in Westcross; each woman she saw looked perfectly primped up for casual lunch or even late breakfast, with bright, luminous colors and a joyous air to each one. Every man looked ready for work, dressed sharply and to the point, and every child seemed distracted, constantly energized, playing with their hands stuffed with candied popcorn and plastic propeller toys.

"Who would ever want to leave this?" Rukia stammered. She suddenly felt extremely nervous to be here, the fact that she was taken there as a prisoner suddenly escaping her mind. She wanted nothing more than to sprint through each and every shop and scope out what the people looked like, what they wanted to talk about… it was all so eye-popping and interesting to her, and it was too much.

Matsumoto giggled. "Come now, Kuchiki, maybe if you're lucky I can help you look around when I need something. But, for now, we need to take you to my captain's quarters."

Rukia really didn't _feel _like a prisoner with Matsumoto talking to her like that… despite the shackles clamped around her nimble wrists. She expected Hitsugaya to snap at his lieutenant, but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes strained forward, leading them on to his guaranteed destination.

"Don't talk to anyone, Kuchiki," the Inquisitor warned, not even bothering to look behind him to face her. "It will be big news that we've brought someone from Westcross here."

Rukia blinked in puzzlement. She'd assumed that the people here would expect something like this, especially with how casually Matsumoto and Hitsugaya reprimanded her and informed her that they would be taking her as their unwilling prisoner. Perhaps the laws weren't as set in stone as they had led her to believe.

They stopped after a few market-centric blocks (Rukia still couldn't grasp how enormous this territory was) in front of a large and surprisingly different-looking building in comparison to the others. The symbol of the Obsidian Lion was brandished on proud golden flags, displayed across the roof of the structure, bringing more attention to the extraordinary ancient carvings that adorned the wood and steel. Twin statues of lions were also perched in front of the doors, both menacing, both equally terrifying, and much more demanding than any propaganda of the Westcross Dragons.

"This is my office," Hitsugaya stated simply, gesturing for the two women to follow him. "And keep your mouth shut, Rukia. The insects from Eastwield are just as friendly as we are when it comes to your people."

Rukia blinked and growled hastily in response to the insult, even when she detected the slight sarcasm in his tone. Now was not the time to exchange pleasantries.

Upon walking up the sleek steps to the "office" and entering, it looked more spacious than the Kuchiki woman had imagined it to be. The floor was hardwood, similar to the material on Eastwield's front entrance, and numerous staircases spiraled up to several floors and, what Rukia assumed to be, many different rooms that probably belonged to people like Hitsugaya.

She was positive that he was not the only "Captain Inquisitor" around.

"My captain's office is on the second floor," Matsumoto informed Rukia. "We're probably going to have to introduce you to a few others if need be, including some of the subordinates that we're taking for training."

Training? It sounded more and more similar to what the Iron Dragons were accustomed to. Thoughts and images of Kaien flashed in Rukia's mind, and she chose to reluctantly put them aside to focus on her current ideal. When she had time, she would mourn.

"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya started, "head up to my office. I would like to share a few words with her."

With a flick of his head, the woman bowed to him and fluttered up the stairs like an enormous, curvaceous butterfly. It was strange to Rukia how a strong-willed and kind woman like that could be so obedient to this man, though their relationship seemed more dynamic than they let on.

Rukia stared at him incredulously.

Hitsugaya paused, coughing into his fist. "Perhaps, I should make myself more clear about the reason you're here." He glanced over her shoulder, where the doors had been promptly closed. He reached into a pocket strapped to his belt, too small at first for Rukia to notice, and pulled out a key.

It glinted silver in the light of the lanterns strung up around the building. Rukia's eyes widened in surprise at this, watching as the small man unlocked her shackles. She winced at the rubbing of the metal against her wrists, smoothly running her thumb over the flesh.

"I don't understand," Rukia began, raising an eyebrow. "You called me your prisoner."

"Indeed," Hitsugaya continued. "That was… quite easily, the most easy method of bringing you here. Matsumoto and I have plenty of questions we need to ask you, though the interrogation is mostly set on my behalf. I will take you around the House of Lions and explain matters that are far more important than trivial ideals."

So he _was _breaking the rules.

Rukia felt rage flushing her cheeks. Her fists clenched and she jabbed the man in the chest with her finger, glaring hotly. "You _told me I was your prisoner_, and now you're basically telling me that you lied? You could have just told me you wanted to ask me _questions_, since that's apparently what you're after!" She crossed her arms, huffing under her breath. "I can't believe this…"

Hitsugaya suddenly seemed rather awkward, despite the clear irritation on his face from her approaching him so comically. "Relax," he murmured, rolling his eyes. "You are still here under our custody, forbidding your escape and leave to Westcross. Either way, you would be devoured by a Hollow in the Wilds if you went on your own." He paused, his gaze sweeping up and down the girl standing before him. "I cannot see how…."

Rukia bristled at his staring, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She glared defensively. "What?"

"Nothing," Hitsugaya grumbled, leveling her. "Come. There is much we need to discuss—"

"Ah, it appears that you have brought a guest, oh great _Captain _Hitsugaya?"

Hitsugaya's expression instantly turned rather flat with irritation. He turned on his heel, facing a stranger walking down the staircase with the cockiest expression that Rukia had ever seen.

The stranger was a tall, lithe man, with bare arms clearly brimming with ropy muscles, destined for sprinting and swimming. His swaying locks of silver hair appeared nearly greased, with closed slits resembling eyes that betrayed any sense of comfort with being around him. He was dressed in a black vest and tawny drawstring pants, with boots that looked ready for sloshing through thick mud or climbing rocky hills.

Rukia instantly didn't like him.

"Perhaps you're finally fulfilling your predecessor's wishes and obtaining a wife? In that case, I must congratulate you, young Captain—"

"Why are you in Eastwield?" Hitsugaya demanded, each word tinged with animosity towards this man. "I have no heard news from the Diamond Quarter in months… I fail to see any reason why Aizen's supervisor would be present in _my _territory."

"The House of Lions is property to the Emperor as much as it is property to Eastwield, young Toushiro," the stranger whispered, chuckling grimly. His lips were stretched to a thin, serpentine line, and Rukia could hardly feel any proper response to his actions aside from immediate frustration.

"I am the Captain of the Eastwield Inquisition, and _you_, _Gin_, will address me as such."

Rukia could practically taste the tension. She glanced between both of the men, testosterone fueling the quieted atmosphere. _There's so much determination and power between them…_

"I have a message for you," Gin inquired, completely ignoring Hitsugaya's demand for proper respect. "If you so choose to read it, you should explore the consequences of what will happen if you ignore a direct communicative message from the Diamond Quarter." He walked towards them, each movement strangely poised and alien, like he was planning each and every step he took. He removed a thin roll of paper from his sleeve, sealed with copper wax.

Hitsugaya did not say anything. He swiped the roll of paper out of Gin's wiry hands, glaring intently towards the floor and refusing to make eye contact. "Now get out of Eastwield. In the future, tell your _ruler _to _give me notice_."

Rukia couldn't believe what she was seeing. The drama was almost palpable. She waited until Gin only laughed shallowly at Hitsugaya's frigid words, brushing past them and suddenly stopping as he walked by Rukia's stiffened form.

"You know, Captain, you should watch a pretty little thing like that. Who knows what could happen to a _Westcross _girl, especially at night."

Before Hitsugaya could respond, Rukia quickly interjected, palms fisted and violet eyes filled with rage. "I can take care of myself, thank you!" She glared at Gin, who was clearly surprised at her outburst, yet his smirk returned as soon as it left, and with a nod, he vanished past the closing doors to the House of Lions.

Hitsugaya stared at Rukia in bewilderment. She was starting to puzzle him more and more with each thing she did. She clearly had plenty of fire within her, and that, he was surprised to admit, was slightly admirable.

"… Upstairs," he muttered, and she turned to him once more. "Go upstairs and wait for me. Pretend that this occurrence never happened." He groaned at her intense stare, clearly demanding answers. "If you must know, Gin Ichimaru is nothing but swine, and is definitely not welcomed in Eastwield without permission. That is all you need to know."

"… While I'm here," Rukia began, "I want my questions to be answered. Whatever you want from me, I doubt it could be worse than what my best friend has gone through." She frowned sullenly. "Just please don't keep me in the dark."

He paused for only a heartbeat before replying with: "I cannot promise anything."

She would have to live with that for now.


End file.
